Focus on Me

by Megan Erickson

  I leaned in and brushed my lips across his. My eyes drifted shut, and when I opened them, our noses were touching. “Show me, then.”

  His breath rushed out, fanning my face, and then he slammed his lips onto mine, the force of it banging my head on the door behind me. I groaned and speared my fingers into his hair, clutching the strands with both hands as he ravaged my mouth.

  And God, what a kiss. Those full lips bruising mine, that wicked tongue doing crazy things in my mouth. He made soft moans in the back of his throat, like he was finally getting his favorite indulgence, that first blessed bite of rich, dark chocolate. He plastered his body to mine, gripping my hips and grinding his hardness into me.

  I could barely keep up with his kiss as he licked into my mouth and dueled with my tongue. I gripped his head and held on, letting him take whatever he wanted, because fuck, I was finally getting to taste Riley.

  When he finally pulled way with a loud smack, his hips were rolling into mine with gentle thrusts, and we were breathing hard, chests bumping. He nuzzled against my neck, nibbling below my ear. I closed my eyes as goose bumps raced over my skin.

  “Can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he whispered.

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  He paused and then he nipped my earlobe. “Smartass.”

  “Riley?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Kiss me again.”

  This kiss was less frenzied but no less intense. And now his hands were moving, sliding under the hem of my shirt. He brushed his knuckles over my abs, and I sucked in a sharp breath through my nose.

  He pulled back and eyed my chest hungrily. “Take your shirt off, Col.”

  I reached back with one hand and fisted my shirt at my upper back, tugging it over my head, then down my arms before I tossed it to the side.

  He laid his hands flat on my pecs, then ran his palms over the smattering of hair I had on my chest. “I love how you look,” he said quietly, almost reverently, his gaze on his hands. He tugged a little on the hair around my nipples, and I grunted. He smiled.

  If this were anyone but Riley, I would have been uncomfortable, maybe even embarrassed at the way I was being studied. But with him . . . I was almost proud of my size and my chest. Especially because of the way his eyes took me in, like I was a chocolate dessert. “You know I love how you look too, Catwalk.”

  His gaze lifted to mine, and then he kissed me. Slowly. Like he was savoring the moment and my taste.

  Fingers dipped into the waistband at my jeans. My belt rattled and loosened. Riley leaned back and pulled it from my belt loops, the leather slapping together as he tossed it to the side. He flicked open the top button of my jeans with one finger and lowered the zipper. He made a strangled noise when he found me commando. And then he sank to his knees.

  Riley. On his knees. Shoving my pants down my thighs. Pressing his face along the length of my cock, his tongue licking one long swipe up the underside.

  “Fuck, Ri,” I moaned, thunking my head back on the door and gripping his hair. “Fuck.”

  Then that long tongue again, this time licking the seam of my balls, and I snapped my eyes open, because I didn’t want to miss a single moment of this. I wanted it burned in my brain, behind my eyelids, this sight of Riley between my legs, sucking one of my balls in his mouth, eyes closed, expression one of pure bliss.

  His hand gripped my cock, pressing it up and into my belly while he licked and laved the skin of my balls. I loved this, always had, but not every guy was into this. It was like Riley was made for me.

  And then his hand shifted, and a wet, hot mouth descended on the tip of my cock. I sucked in a breath and then watched as Riley slowly, ever so slowly, lowered his head, my shaft disappearing into his mouth as he took me down his throat.

  My fingers flexed in his hair at the heat of his mouth and the swirl of his tongue. “Oh shit.”

  He moaned, the vibration nearly bringing me to my knees. And then he began to work me. Like a fucking blow-job expert, he bobbed his head in time with his fist and rolled my balls with his other hand.

  I watched my spit-slick shaft disappearing between those beautiful full lips. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked, rotating his wrist along with his head in a twisting motion that had me immobile. I could feel the orgasm starting, my balls tightening.

  But there was one thing missing.

  “Look at me,” I whispered.

  He kept his eyes closed and didn’t react to my words.

  “Ri, look at me.”

  Still nothing.

  I reached down and cupped his chin, my thumb pressing into the corner of his mouth, where my shaft slid in and out. “Baby,” I said softly, my accent thicker with arousal. “I want to see your eyes.”

  He paused, then his eyelids raised as he pulled back. When only my tip remained in his mouth, his gaze met mine.

  There was so much there, swirling and whirling, all his emotions—his need—right at the surface, and he knew it too, as the color rose on his cheeks. I saw why he wanted to keep it from me. And like the selfish bastard I was, I wanted it anyway. I’d asked for it.

  With his eyes on mine, he bobbed his head once, twice, and then I was done. With a cry and a tightened fist in his hair, I shot down his throat. It felt like I came for five minutes straight, because Riley kept on sucking and swallowing, wringing every last drop from me.

  Riley let my softened shaft slip from his mouth, a small smile on his lips as he kissed the wet tip. I leaned my head back against the wall, closing my eyes because my head was spinning. My hand was still in his hair, but my fingers slipped as he moved. My feet were lifted as he pulled off my boots and socks, one by one, then removed my pants. I opened my eyes as I stood in front of him, naked.

  I licked my lips. “You gonna let me return the favor now?”

  His eyes were at half-mast, his lips red and swollen.

  He stepped closer, still in his T-shirt and jeans. He gripped my hip and then slid his hand around my waist to palm my ass. He leaned in close and pressed a kiss to the hinge of my jaw. “You gonna let me have this?”

  Jesus, this Riley was making my knees weak. Never in my life would I look at someone like Riley and want him to top me. It was just a personal preference. He was slender and an inch or two shorter than me. I had more muscle, more bulk.

  Yet his grip on my ass was strong, his fingers digging into the skin. He’d leave bruises, and I liked it.

  His expression was a dare.

  And I wanted to accept.

  I stuck out my chin and smashed my lips to his. He let me control the kiss for a couple seconds before he lunged back. My head hit the door and his clothing-clad body pressed into mine. I broke the kiss and said against his lips, “If you want it, take it.”

  His eyes flashed and a grin twisted his lips. In a swift move, he had me turned so my front was plastered to the wall. I let my forehead fall until it clunked against the plaster. When his chest touched my back, it was skin against skin, so I knew he’d taken off his shirt. He gripped my wrists and placed my palms flat on the wall. I widened my legs about shoulder-width apart as he dragged his fingers down my arms, fingernails scraping, then continued down my sides. I shivered as he raked over a particularly ticklish set of skin.

  When he reached my hips, he gripped them and paused. Then I felt his lips press a light kiss between my shoulder blades. I moaned and curled my fingers into fists. Those lips traveled down my back, nipping at my spine, until he reached the top of my ass. Another pause, then teeth clamped down on my right ass cheek. I yelped at the sudden bite.

  Riley’s hand left my hip and a thumb traced over the skin he’d bitten. “Been wanting to do that since you walked ahead of me at the gas station.”

  “Colin Hartman, fulfilling fantasies since he was sixteen,” I mumbled, shifting my weight and relishing the sting lingering on my skin.

  That earned me a smack with the flat of his palm, right over that bite, and I laughed.


  “Don’t move,” he said.

  “Not for a million dollars,” I said against the wall.

  I heard him rummaging in his bag, then a jeans zipper. A hand touched my hip, urging me to turn around. I did, settling with my back against the wall and finally getting to look at a naked Riley.

  I could tell now that in the magazine, he’d been acting. That sultry look, that perfect openmouthed pout. His eyes had been guarded, though. Not anything like now, so warm and wet and full of me. His chest was bare, hairless, his pubic hair neatly trimmed around a rather impressive, hard cock.

  I reached out and wrapped my fingers around his waist, tugging him toward me. Our lips met in a kiss and I was once again lost in the taste of Riley, the feel of his tongue meshing with mine.

  And then I felt his palm gliding over my hip and waist, and around. A lubed finger dipped into the top of my crease. I moaned and tugged him against me harder as that finger slipped down, down, until it rested against that tight ring of muscle. “Ri,” I mumbled against his lips as that finger circled, circled, loosening the muscle until I felt the tip of his finger slip inside. I jerked, my knees nearly buckling. “If you don’t get me on that bed, I’m going to collapse.”

  He grinned against my lips. “I kinda like you all jelly in my arms.”

  “On the bed, Catwalk,” I growled.

  With a strong grip that was no longer surprising me, he turned us and shoved me onto the bed. My back hit with a bounce, and I scooted up until my head rested on a pillow. And then he was on the bed, crawling toward me, prowling like he was a big cat and I was his mouse. And oh, how I was enjoying being the mouse in this game.

  He kissed my knee, then the inside of my thigh right near my groin. Then my hip bone, and one lick to my left nipple. I watched him crawl up my body, then settle himself between my spread legs, which I bent at the knees.

  Those fingers were back between us, pressing into me. I sucked in a breath. It’d been a long time since I’d had anything inside me, fingers or dick. So even his index finger burned. But he was slow and patient and cautious. I trusted him to make this good for me, especially the way he watched my face, reading the cues of my body.

  Soon the burn faded and two fingers took the place of one. He leaned in, pressing his lips to mine. “You okay?”

  “Feels good,” I murmured, rotating my hips, wanting his fingers right . . . there . . .

  I arched my back when he hit the bundle of nerves, stars already shooting behind my eyes. He smiled wickedly and ran his fingers over my prostate. Again and again. Not enough to get me off, not without friction on my cock when I’d just come about five minutes ago. I was hard again, though I wasn’t sure I had even lost my erection from when he sucked my brain out through my dick.

  “I sure hope you have a condom,” I gasped as those fingers kept up that delicious torture.

  “Wish you could see your face right now, Col.” He kissed my face, my eyelids, and my nose. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”

  I groaned and rolled my hips. “Baby, please get a condom on and fuck me, all right?”

  For once he listened to me, his fingers leaving my body just for a minute. I stared at the ceiling, because I didn’t really want to move, as the sound of crinkling plastic sounded in the small hotel room. And then he was back, that gorgeous face and dark eyes hovering above me.

  “You want me on my back or knees?” I asked.

  He kissed me, this time soft and slow. “Like this,” he said. “I want you like this.”

  I gripped his ass, my fingers digging into the flesh. “Then have me.”

  He pushed in, and I closed my eyes at the renewed burn. His cock was a whole hell of a lot thicker than two of his fingers, but fuck . . . fuck, had I missed this. The fullness. The sensation.

  The connection.

  I popped my eyes open. Riley’s gaze was zoned in on where we met, where he was entering my body. I watched too, as he pushed in slowly to the hilt, until his balls rested against my ass. I raised my feet off of the bed and wrapped them around his waist, my heels digging into the back of his thighs. “Ri.”

  His gaze raised to mine, and he settled his elbows into the bed on either side of me, his hands around my neck. “Col, you feel . . . fuck, you feel incredible.”

  “Yeah?” I said, my voice strangled. “Then move, baby, fucking move.”

  His hips tilted, like he was gaining purchase on the bed. And then move he did, slow at first, a steady rhythm. The burn receded and in its wake was pleasure, indescribable pleasure as he brushed against my prostate over and over again with each thrust. My cock was between us, rubbing between our sweat-slick bellies.

  “Harder,” I grunted. Wanting more, needing more.

  And he gave it to me, slamming into me so hard, the bed crashed into the wall. I raised my arms over my head and braced myself on the headboard. “Yes, yes, fuck, don’t stop.”

  “Never,” he grunted, panting hard, his hair dampening around his temples. His neck was corded, his shoulders straining. And those eyes, they were a dark fire, sparking like flints of amber.

  “I’m gonna . . .” he mumbled.

  “Wait for me.” I said, my gaze on where he plunged in and out of my body.

  “Can’t wait,” he gritted out.

  “Ri . . .” I moaned. “Look at me.”

  But instead he reached between us, wrapping his fingers around my cock, and with two tugs, I was coming all over his hand and my stomach. And he was right with me, his mouth open in a wordless cry as his rhythm faltered, his cock pulsing inside of me as my inner muscles squeezed him.

  His breaths gusted over my neck, quick exhales and heaving inhales. I wasn’t much better, my chest rising and falling, my abs glistening with my spend in the fluorescent light of the bedside lamp.

  His shoulders shook and he haltingly collapsed onto one elbow, then the other, until he was lying beside me, half of his body on me, the other half on the bed, his head tucked into my neck.

  I realized I was still bracing myself on the headboard, so I lowered my hands, one fisting my damp hair, the other wrapping around Riley’s shoulders.

  Riley needed to get rid of the condom and I needed to clean myself up, but in that moment, I didn’t want to move. My eyelids drooped. I yawned, and the hand that was in my hair fell to the bed with a thunk. Riley started beside me, and when I felt him pull away, instinct made me grip him tighter. He lifted his head, a small smile on his face, his eyes soft, his hair a crazy mess. “Just going to the bathroom. Be back in a minute.”

  “Okay.”

  He paused for a moment and studied my face. “I appreciate you holding tight, though.”

  There was no smirk to his tone, and I got the impression there was more meaning behind his words than face value. “I’ll remember that,” I said softly.

  He nodded, and a fleeting vulnerability flashed over his face. Then it was gone, and he was up, walking naked to the bathroom.

  I stared. Because I could now.

  And he knew, because he shot me a smile over his shoulder before he disappeared into the bathroom.

  Chapter Eleven

  His fingers tapped down my spine in hesitant touches. I folded my arms under the pillow and rolled my head to face him.

  His gaze was on his hands as they ran over the skin of my back. He blushed slightly when he saw me watching him, then his fingers traced a path down my arm, over the swell of my bicep.

  “I like how you look,” he said.

  “You said that earlier.”

  “Well, I mean it.”

  “Okay.”

  He nestled in closer to my side. “Do you like how you look?”

  I chewed my lip. “Not sure I ever really thought about it. I look how I look, I guess.”

  His brows furrowed, like that answer bothered him, but the look faded quickly as his hand continued its caress down my back and over the swell of my ass.

  I repositioned my head and tried to catch his eye. “Do you like how you look
?”

  He flinched. Like I’d raised my hand to slap him. He jerked his hand away from my back and the loss of warmth was like a punch.

  He was retreating, just like that, with one question. But this time, I was going to protest that retreat. I’d let him inside my body, he sure as hell was going to let me inside his head. I rolled onto my side and slung a heavy thigh over both of his legs, stopping his attempt to show me his back.

  “Col—”

  “Ri.” I cupped his neck, my thumb on his chin, so he couldn’t look away as I rose over him, propping myself up with an elbow in the bed. “Come on, talk to me.” He tried to jerk away from my touch, but I held firm, snugging my body into his. “Baby, stop.”

  He stilled. Like my words shut down his muscles. His eyes squeezed shut and his nostrils flared as he inhaled through his nose and exhaled out of his mouth. He popped his eyes open, and there was still a little bit of fight in them. “The power of that word.”

  I brushed his jaw with my thumb. “What word?”

  He huffed. “I’ve always hated ‘baby.’ But the way you say it . . . that drawl you got. Dammit, I think you could get me to do anything.”

  I grinned. “Anything?”

  He rolled his eyes and opened his mouth, but I didn’t want to let his previous reaction slide. “Why’d you flinch away when I asked you if you liked how you look?”

  He couldn’t move his head to turn away from me, but I couldn’t force him to meet my eyes. And he took that out to focus on the ceiling. I was about to prod, but then clamped my mouth shut. He seemed to be thinking, so I gave him time. I had a lot of it, after all.

  “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

  I frowned. “For what?”

  “For . . . a lot. For lying to you. For getting mad about the magazine.” He finally looked at me again. “For leaving.”